Heartfelt saber rattling...button size comparisons...Das Boot Redux...back to hidey hole living...we're all going to die!

Happy hump day everybody! I trust you all made it through the New Year’s weekend? If you didn’t, I really don’t want to hear about it.

I had enough troubles of my own: the beloved Sooners lost what was without a doubt one of the best, if not most stressful games I’ve seen them play all year…despite what the idiots on ESPN say. Oh sure, the defense made four (count ‘em four) crucial mistakes, but overall played better than they have at any other time this year.

Honestly, the game could have gone either way. Came to the conclusion that I’m going to start watching games without sound. The announcers and color commentary guys suck at what they do. I’m not sure it’s really their fault either. I saw a comment online that they have more air time to fill than they have meaningful contents to spew forth.

That’s a problem. That’s how we wind up listening to inane prattle…kind of like reading the nonsense in this blog.

But I digress…back to my weekend (cuz it’s all about me). The Wife isn’t too pleased with Cousin Fred’s new subterranean digs. She hates the entrance tower sticking up above the ground, the escape mini-tower at the rear of the structure, and the various vent pipes and exhaust stacks in between.

Cousin Fred has installed a periscope that rises up so he can look around before opening the hatch. Yesterday morning I observed the Wife down there banging on the entrance hatch trying to get Cousin Fred to come above ground. The periscope came up and immediately saw the Wife with a filterless Pall Mall dangling from her lips screaming obscenities into the lens.

The periscope went back down. The hatch stayed locked.

The Wife busted her bottle of Old Crow whiskey against the tower and stomped back up to the house.

When Cousin Fred finally emerged, he was wearing the costume of a German U-boat captain, as you would have expected to see in that movie, “Das Boot.” Gigi soon emerged wearing the uniform of a German WW-II sailor.
Despite the weirdness of it all, I’m beginning to think Cousin Fred may be on to something.

The Trump and Kim Jong Uno have been flinging putrid crap at one another since late last week. It started when NoKo doughboy announced to the world that he has a “nuclear button” on his desk that he will not hesitate to press if the U.S. gets too aggressive.

Hopefully the button is covered or something…would hate for him to drop some papers on it and initiate a launch.

After announcing that he could take out most of the U.S. with missiles, he then offered to open talks with SoKo in a bid to allow the NoKo Olympic team to compete in the games there.

Oh, and then there were images of a humongous ice sculpture of an ICBM in Pyongyang. It even lit up at night. It looked like a giant ad for a NoKo dildo manufacturer.

That was followed by announcements yesterday from the U.S. Intelligence Community that it appears NoKo is getting ready to launch another damned missile. Oh, the rat bastards (NoKo, not the U.S. Intelligence Community…hmmmm…okay, apply as you see fit)!

And THAT was followed by The Trump tweeting that his nuclear button is bigger and better than that of the NoKo despot with a bad haircut. The Trump was quoted as saying that his button is so big and stupendous and powerful that it is supremely excellent in a world of nuclear buttons on desks. Oh, and he made of point of pointing (point of pointing – genius don’t you think) out that his button works without the use of drugs or other stimulation.

Judas priest…and, people wonder why I drink.

So, after reading about The Trump’s nuclear button and being unable to erase imagery from my brain, I’ve decided it’s time to head back down inside the hidey hole. Cousin Fred has the right idea, subterranean living is the way to go at least until one country burns through its nuclear arsenal first.

As I was carrying supplies and clean underwear down inside the shelter, the Wife sat in a chair over to one side muttering something about finally having the TV to herself to watch old Law & Order reruns and calling me a “p***y.” In between said comments she was swigging Old Crow and then launching the empties down range to break against the entrance tower of Das Boot.

The periscope came up and looked around each time.

That is all!
 

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